Rewrite
by Xenoglossy
Summary: Seven years later, Ed returns like a pheonix risen from the ashes only to find himself dragging those close to him into another desperate and obsessive quest. Postseries, AUish, vaguely slashy
1. Good Morning

**FOREWARD:** This fic needs a bit of an explaination. Now, aside from being a big, plotty, post-series fic that will be completely and utterly rendered AU by the movie, there is also a gimmick to this story. When I began 'Rewrite', I set out with the intention of writing a hugely, plot-driven story using the Roy/Ed 45 Themes as a guideline. I always thought it would be neat to see what kind of story a writer could come up with using those constraints. I'm also tackling all of the themes in order, so while this fic is cohesive, the "chapters" (I prefer to call them sections) are somewhat erratic. Some of them are 3000 words long, some of them are 300.That being said, since this fic is based on their themes, I felt somewhat obligated to include that particular slash pairing in this fic. However, despite what it may seem like in the first few sections, Roy and Ed's relationship is FAR from the main focus of this story. When it concerns the two, I am actually more interested in seeing how many complexities and layers I can level upon their relationship without bogging down the writing. When it comes to the fic, uh, I'm actually more interested in the over-arcing plot.So, yeah. I ramble too much. This is 'Rewrite'. I love writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much. I'll shut up now.-insert witty disclaimer detailing my complete and utter lack of legal rights to this series-**REWRITE**  
Cephied Variable**1.** He felt his age sometimes. Well, saw it mostly- fleeting and unintentional glances as he passed the tall picture windows in the second floor corridor. His fingers would ghost through his hair, linger on the gray scattering his temples and he would unconciously avoid looking at the dark shadow that covered the left side of his face. Sometimes his vision blurred, as his one good eye attempted in vain to view the world in fragments, straining for another part of the picture that wasn't there anymore. Roy Mustang felt oldest when he was doing paperwork. He sat at his desk, docile and reserved, his hand a knot of aching muscels around a long fountain pen. His handwriting had been sharp and percise when he was younger- efficient, but nearly illegible. He hadn't had the time for trivial things such as the aesthetic appeal of his handwriting- his script was like his words had been, densely layered and difficult to extrapolate any meaning from. Now his handwriting was tall and elegant with soft sweeping loops and dips. He hardly recognized it.Roy Mustang had a dream once. It hadn't been a dream in the conventional sense- Roy Mustang dreamt of fufilling a necessity, though some people believed that he was simply an ambitious man with a thirst for power. When he was a young and broken man, Mustang had decided to become Fuhrer and change the world. Now he was an old and broken man who had, in fact, changed the world. However, he had gained nothing from achieving his goal and now found himself stagnant.He didn't even know what he was doing in the military anymore. Cleanup skirmishes with Drachma had ended years ago. Lior had been resettled, Ishbal was being rebuilt. These days Roy found himself managing any lingering issues that had to do with the disbanded State Alchemists that Brigandier General Armstrong had let slip through the cracks. Not that Armstrong wasn't a thorough soldier- Roy half suspected that his old friend intentionally made these "mistakes" to keep him busy.Sometimes, Roy would look out the window at the bland scenery and wonder if things could have been different, if they still could be. Sometimes in his weaker moments he imagined himself a family man in early retirement with a wife smiling at him across the sea of balnkets and pillows and children following at his heels, grinning and giggling. He could imagine himself dragging his fingers through long, blonde hair and patting his children on the head fondly. Then he'd press his eyes closed and see Fuhrer King Bradley's large hands tighten around his son's fragile neck repeating again and again, disjointed and static like a skipping phonograph record. The images would melt away and Roy would remind himself that the life he was imagining belonged to Maes Hughes and although the man was no longer around to enjoy it, there was no way that Roy could ever live it for him.Besides, there were too many complications between he and Riza now. He knew deep in his heart that she was probably the only woman who could ever want him when he was old and gray. He was young enough still that others tried- they smiled at him, running their painted fingers along his cheekbone, fingertips teasing surprisingly soft skin and resting gently across the eyepatch as they cooed and giggled imagined stories relating to his heorism. _"Did you lose your eye in a war?"_ a simple _"No."_ was enough to make them lose interest.In all honesty, he had tried. Six months forced leave and he had been considering abandoning the military all together. Somehow, the way Riza Hawkeye smiled at him so genuinely across the sea of blankets in the morning made it all worth it. He let Black Hayate sleep with his muzzle in his lap in the morning, and he would cook in the evenings because surprisingly, Riza couldn't. Not that he was stellar at it himself, having spent the better part of his adult life eating a (bipolar) mix of cold military rations and lavish, well-furnished meals courtesy of a local five star bistro. He nearly convinced himself, however, that when Riza smiled that rare, beautiful smile of hers the entire world stood still. Roy wasn't sure if he could have called it love, exactly, but it was the promise of happiness. The promise of the quiet, the routine, the small piece of domestic bliss. Roy felt like he could finally breathe again. Like the last seven years of his life had been a slow suffocation of his soul. Ambition had slowly erroded away at something important inside of him, and although he couldn't exactly define it, there was still a dull and ever present ache in the back of his being. He hadn't even realized until Hughes' death that he'd been dying, just a little bit, on the inside.Happiness is a curious thing and Roy, like most people, found that once he obtained it he still wanted something more. Or less. He wasn't sure what he wanted the day he dug his old uniform out of the closet and began to clothe himself in it. Methodically- a fold here, a scatter of buttons here and don't forget to buckle the clasp in the back. It was like instinct, clockwork, the way the uniform slid on so easily, fitting itself to his body like a second skin. He looked at himself in the mirror and was almost shocked to see someone he recognized staring back at him. When Riza saw him she said nothing, just looked him over with an unreadable expression on her face before turning on her heel and shutting the bedroom door behind her. When she emerged, she too was donning her old uniform pressed, preened and everybit the proffesional. They said nothing for a long time and Roy placed his hands on Riza's shoulders, leaning in for a kiss. An apology. She turned her head calmly and said _"Sir, you are my commanding officer. I hardly think it is proper."_Age hadn't happened gradually to Roy Mustang. He'd woken up one morning and suddenly he was graying and aching, reaching for the cane that leaned stiffly against his far wall for the first time in years. Perhaps it was a testament to the fact that he'd accomplished all his dreams before thirty that before fourty he was already going gray and achy in the joints.He dropped his pen and dropped his gaze as the door swished open (quietly and efficiently- that's the way of the military). It was about the time that Riza brought him his second coffee of the day- no creame, four sugar- not out of duty, but because in the end she was still rather fond of him. He waved dismissively as the mug was set firmly on his desk. "Thank you Leutenint, that will-" he trailed off abruptly when he noticed that the hand holding the mug was metal. He blinked once, twice, three times just to make sure he hadn't fallen asleep on the job. Slowly, almost fearfully, his eyes travelled the length of the arm (most definitely metal beneath folds of pale, red fabric), up a barely exposed neck, higher, drinking in the features of a familiar face. Not just any familiar face- the cheekbones were a little more pronounced, the eyes a little narrower, the hair a little longer but that smile was just as wide and bright (crazy, maniac grin) as Roy remembered it, showing just enough teeth to hide the deep worry lines beneath his eyes.Roy's mouth was dry. He inhaled sharply and braced himself against his desk, "Edward."Ed's smile widened, though there was something melanchony about his gaze. He let go of the coffe mug and shrugged awakrdly, as if he were for some reason uncomfortable with his automail, "Good morning, Colonel." 


	2. I m off

**2.** Roy Mustang has spent years looking at people's backs. Saluting and bowing to superiors who simply walked away once acknowledged and watching subordinates who left his office after acknowledging him.He'd never said it in so many words, but Roy had missed Edward Elric. Like everyone else who'd know the boy, he'd often been haunted by dreams of the day Ed would return like a pheonix risen from the ashes, full of life and fire and determination. There was the quiet, unspoken assumption among Fullmetal's close aquaintences that Edward's return would bring some sense of normality back into their lives, as if all the things that had gone wrong since would suddenly right themselves in his wake. Or maybe Roy was just tired and bored, subconciously yearning for the excitment represented by Ed. Edward was all violent ambition, tempered by an intelligence that was anything but ordinary. Roy missed the way Ed fumed and fought; the way Ed burned himself into the ground to achieve his goals. He missed the way Ed always made sure the shoot him a sly glance or a sour glare over his shoulder before sliding out of his office once again.Edward stayed in the office all day, reading quietly and unobtrusively as Roy shakily went about his work attempting to still the thoughts racing through his mind. At the end of the day they left the office and walked side by side against the smokey sunset- Roy with his hands in his pockets; Ed with his arms folded behind his neck behind his neck and neither saying a word._'Where have you been?'_ Roy wanted to ask. Anyone would. Ed had been missing for seven years having disappeared from Armistice without a trace. He was older now, maturity etching deep furrows in his brow. His clothes were unfamiliar- not completely foreign, but stiffer and far more formal than anything Roy would have ever imagined Edward Elric wearing. He wanted to ask, but didn't. Instead he waited- Edward _was_ Edward afterall and would explain things when he was good and ready to explain, or not at all. Fishing for answers would only earn him a growl, glare and a vague fist waved in his direction and Roy had to admit that there was something refreshing about sharing a moment of quiet peace with Edward. It was a less awkward silence than he had expected."So, what happened to your eye?" it was so very typical that Edward would ask so casually.Roy told him, and Ed looked up at him in shock. He didn't ask about the Fuhrer, which was fine because Roy didn't particularily want to talk about it."Auntie told me that you retired from the military. For a while at least." Ed stared at the building tops and Roy stared at the ground."I did."Ed looked at him, a raised eyebrow and a quizzical frown, "I would have imagined you'd have been married by now. You owe Hughes at least that much."Roy stiffened at that comment and momentarily met Ed's eyes, "I fail to see what Hughes has to do with my career choices, Fullmetal."Ed held the gaze a moment before rolling his eyes back towards the sky and sighing heavily, "I was looking forwards to you being Fuhrer, you know. Up in your shiny office staring out the window and being all smug with yourself. I'm disappointed in you Mustang."Roy surpressed an intinctual smirk. Edward was right. It was disappointing, "Well, I must apologize Fullmetal. I should have considered your feelings."Ed bit his lip and inhale, as if he were sucking back an annoyed response, "So. Why are you still here wearing that uniform?"Roy paused, and then didn't answer because there was really nothing to say about it. How was he supposed to explain to Edward that no matter how unhappy it made him, there just wasn't anything else for him to do. He'd enrolled when he was seventeen years old, now he was thirty seven. Twenty years of his life devoted to the kind of work that can only take you so far. The military was an entire culture of staring at people's back and shoes- never their faces.He noticed that Ed had stopped walking. He was giving Roy a look that told him the last question hadn't been a rethorical one. Roy sighed and held out his hands diplomatically- he was wearing gloves without transmutation circles. The country hadn't needed the Flame Alchemist for years, "Tell me, Fullmetal," he sighed, "Once you achieve your dream, what's left?" _Nothing_, he answered himself sadly, and the shadows in Edward's eyes seemed to echo the sentiment. 


	3. After One Year

**3.** A year after he was gone, they celebrated his seventeenth birthday. Al and Winry made a cake while Alicia mixed the icing and Sciezka puttered around the kitchen attempting to help in her own clumsy way. Pinako smoked solemnly in the living room while Roze just pet Den between the ears, staring at some unspecified space far off in the distance, her eyes clouded with memory.Al couldn't remember Ed's ssixteenth birthday. Not that they had celebrated it, but he couldn't remember Ed's fifteenth birthday either. Or his fourteenth, or his thirteenth. He couldn't even remember his brother's twelfth birthday, no matter how many times Gracia told the story and Alicia gushed about how cool it had been to have an "older brother" who had the same birthday as her.They sat in the Rockbell's dining room and ate the cake, telling stories about Edward Elric while Pinako shook her head sadly, watching the smoke from her pipe curl in the air. Al grew frustrated by the end of the night, listening to story after story he couldn't remember despite having played a starring role in.The next year, Armstrong came to the party as well, as did the Tringham brothers. Fletcher could nearly stand eye to eye with Al and for some reason, this made Russel laugh uncontrollably. Al couldn't rememeber why ir was funny, but it still caused him to flush with embarassment.Brigandier General Mustang attended the next year. He sat Alicia on his lap and laughed about all the times he and Ed had fought. Or rather, the times Ed had fought and Mustang had simply remained calm behind the confident curve of his smile. Pinako still sat in the corner, dark eyes watching but never revealing or betraying and single emotion.The year after that, Winry made the cake on her own (utilizing her newest invention, the convection oven) while Roze's son Cali mixed the icing all on his own. When Winry brought the cake to Al, he just frowned and told her that there wasn't going to be a party. Talking about Ed wasn't going to bring him home- Auntie Pinako's quiet disapproval hadn't been misguided. They were the foolish ones.Al didn't want to admit selfish reasoning, but he couldn't stand to hear one more story about his brother and feel absolutely _nothing_ in response. 


	4. Library

**4.** "Alphonse still hasn't regained his memories?" Roy wondered sadly, jingling his keys in the lock."Didn't you know?"Roy swung the door open and tiredly flicked on the hall lights, "I assumed that he would regain them. Eventually."Ed sighed and shrugged his coat off, tossing it into the corner without much ceremony. Roy raised an eyebrow when Ed didn't take off his boots but stalked off down the hall anyways, "Apparently everyone else did too.""It's been seven years," Roy followed the boy down the hall and directed him into the living room, "There has been a general assumption that his amnesia was brought on by trauma. The Rockbells and Miss Roze have never offered any evidence otherwise. In most cases like that, memories will return after a set amount of time, often triggered by- Edward, please don't put your boots on my coffee table.""Sorry." Ed chirped, but didn't move his feet. Roy sighed and lingered in the archway, his coat still on, staring at Edward in the half light. The boy- well, a young man now Roy supposed- was sprawled out across his couch, feet propped up on the table, arms stretched over the back of the couch. His chest heaved heavy with a miserable sigh. The body language was the same though the eyes were older. So, so much older, "But you should have known better, Mustang. You're an alchemist. Even without me around to explain exactly what did happen to him, you should have realized that Al's memories probably would never come back.""What happened to him?"Ed just leaned his head back and stared at the black ceiling. Then Roy noticed something, "Fullmetal, may I ask why you are making yourself so comfortable in my home?"Edward rolled his head on his shoulders and looked at Roy plantively, "Do you have a personal library?"Roy blinked. It wasn't a very big one but, "Yes." most grounded state alchemists did.Ed nodded, wearing a shallow grin, "Good. I can't exactly walk into Central's afterall. I'm dead."He _couldn't_ be suggesting- Roy inhaled deeply and fisted his fingers in his pockets. He would have laughed, except that Edward was being serious, "Fullmetal, you can't just-""Listen, Mustang, I told Al that I'd get his memories back and in order to do that, I need your help. I don't break promises to my little brother. As far as most people are concerned I've been dead for seven years and just between you and me, I'd like to keep it that way." a serious look and Edward's eyes always caught the light at exactly the right angle. Roy couldn't understand why, but it made his breath catch in his throat."I have a... well, there is no spare bedroom...""I'll take the couch."Roy nodded curtly, then remembered that he was still wearing his jacket. He turned awkwardly in the doorframe as Ed muttered a _'thanks, Colonel'_ and fell backwards into the cushions. It reminded Roy of the past. it reminded him _too much_ of the past, and the memories sent a shiver up his spine. 


	5. Homeland

**5.** His automail ached. He crouched in a tree, rubbing at his shoulder where skin met metal and watched as Alphonse Elric chased the Rockbell dog through the long grass. Roze's son, Cali, ran after him giggling brightly as Winry waited for them at the end of the walk, a warm smile pasted on her clean face. Cali tackled the old dog and Al dipped down, scooping the boy up in long tanned arms and laughing without a care in the world. Winry shook her head, snickering, and bounded towards them, the dog rushing to nuzzle her leg. She threw her arms around Al's neck, pulling him down to kiss his forehead. As if to say: "I'm so happy you're alive". It had been years and years and yet she was still happy he was alive.They went to the house, a dog at their heels, and Wrath watched the sun go down behind them. 


	6. Hair

**6.** "Your hair is so long now, brother." Al ran his fingers through the length of Edward's golden ponytail before pulling it loose and dragging a brush through it."Yeah, I haven't bothered to get it cut in a while." Ed chuckled weakly and brushed the rest of his hair over his shoulder, "Damn inflation. Made even that too expensive.""Mmm." Al replied as he usually did when Ed spoke of things he couldn't understand. "It's nearly as long as Winry's." he said instead, a sly giggle working it's way into his young voice.Ed flinched, but didn't say anything about it. It shocked Al how little he cared- the Edward he remembered would never have stood for being compared to a girl. He sighed, a little confused, and began to gather his brother's hair back into a ponytail. Ed reached back to stop him."Wait, Al. You should braid it."Al tipped his head quizzically in the corner of Ed's vision, "Why?"Ed frowned and let his shoulders fall, "Just... do it, Al." 


	7. State Alchemist

**7.** Edward pulled the hood tight around his neck and tried to keep his head low. It was one of Roy's old military issue jackets- non-descript frayed black fabric- hastily hemmed to keep it from dragging through the puddles. Ed muttered under his breath, words crystallizing in the crisp, morning air, "If someone recognizes me, Mustang, you're dead.""I'm sure," Roy began pleasantly, "People will simply assume that you are a child, Edward.""I'm twenty-four years old!" Ed bit out, shooting a sour glare at his companion, "You can't just-""I apologize." Roy's quiet grin said otherwise, but Ed decided to drop the matter."Who are you taking me to see?" He asked after a moment of stillness. Roy's shallow smiled deepened and he raised his nose slightly. That aloofness frustrated Edward- it was the kind of smile one wore when they were in on a joke you knew nothing about."Oh, just an old friend."The aforementioned old friend was impossible to miss. He filled out an entire desk and looked unnatural, somehow, leaned over scribbling away at his paper work. The pen looked small and fragile in his large hands and anyone who didn't know him would be surprised that he didn't break it in his iron grip. Ed let his hood fall back, eyes wide as he felt himself torn between a surprised joy and the old instinct to run as far away in the opposite direction as he could manage."Armstrong?" he exclaimed.Armstrong's head snapped up and his face shifted through several different emotions before finally settling on outright speechless surprise. "Edward Elric!" he shouted, standing so abruptly that he knocked his chair over."Brigadier General." Roy muttered a warning tone. Armstrong's eyes were still bulging out of their sockets as he stumbled towards Edward and placed broad hands on the young man's shoulders."You were... you _are_ supposed to be dead."Ed shrunk under Armstrong's earnest grip, but he smiled anyways. It looked forced, but Roy could tell even from his vantage point that it was sincere. "I still am. Technically. So could you keep all of this hush-hush, please?" he winked and Armstrong glanced at Roy who simply placed a finger across his lips. Armstrong heaved heavily and reluctantly let go of Ed's shoulders, folding his hands behind his back.A sigh, "What can I do for you?"Ed looked at Roy, too large coat slipping off his shoulders and Roy strode forwards, saluting Armstrong sitffly, "We've come to ask a favour."Armstrong smiled faintly behind his moustache, "No need to be so formal, Mustang. From your manner I gather that this is not exactly military business."Roy coughed and relaxed, "You've gathered correctly, my old friend. We require... discreet access to any reports or texts relating to the now disbanded state alchemists."Armstrong's eyebrows raised, "_How_ discreet?"Roy smiled that sly, undeniable smile of his, no less influential on his now disfigured face, "Not that I'm expecting anyone to ask, but just in case they do- we were never here."Armstrong deliberated a moment- torn between duty and loyalty- before he straightened with resolve and gestured to the plain door tucked behind his desk. Ed grinned up at him from within the folds of thick, black fabric and headed towards the library eagerly without another word. Roy went to follow him, but Armstrong held him back until the door snapped shut."I suppose," Armstrong began heavily, a dark sadness in his pale eyes, "There's no point in wondering where he's been."

----------------

Ed sat on the floor crosslegged, a large tome in his lap and Roy's jacket folded behind him as a makeshift pillow. Roy was sitting calmly in a straight-backed, wooden chair watching the clock. Well, he _had_ been watching the clock, glancing at the slowly ticking second hand in between paragraphs and formulas. Now, however, he found himself stealing stray glances at the young alchemist seated across from him. Ed read as if he were posessed by a demon, turning pages so swiftly and viciously that it sounded as if a flock of birds were flailing about within the library's walls. Ed's braid was coming loose and his blonde hair fell in his face as golden eyes scanned the book, back and forth, back and forth and then a slight pause- the pupils' movement somewhat reminescent of a typewriter.Roy was mesmerized by this without really understanding why. He didn't even realize he had been staring at Edward until the young man cursed suddenly, slamming his book shut with a thick flapping noise that shook Roy out of his reviere."I wish," Ed began bitterly, furrowing his brow at the offending text, "That I could talk to my father. He would know."Roy blinked, folding his own book shut and regarding the younger alchemist with interest, "Didn't your father die... seven years ago?" he almost regretted asking it. Would have regretted asking it had the tone in Edward's voice not suggested what it had.Edward looked up like a wild animal caught in a hunter's trap. He paled slightly and his bottom lip slipped under his teeth as he shakily brushed a lock of blonde behind his shoulder. That was when the regret began to sink in, "I, er, am not completely sure how to answer that question."Roy closed his eye and inhaled deeply, "I must aplogize. That was rude-""I saw him again." Roy's eye blinked open as Ed stood and began pulling books off the shelves at random, "I went to where he was. And then I came back. But he, um... even if he's alive right now he can never come home."Roy's mouth opened to say something, but he realized that there was no way to reply except with another question. The famous Alchemist of Light, Hohenheim Elric, was still alive. Edward has been... living with his father? There were many intelligent questions Roy could have asked- the kind of questions that deserved answers, especially after such a string of cryptic statements. Instead, he made the worst statement he could have possibly managed considering the situation, "I thought that you hated your father."Ed dropped a book. Just the one that was in his flesh hand. Roy watched his fingers fall open limply and the journal landed on the floor with it's spine wide open, delicate pages crumpling awkwardly against the hardwood floor. Ed straightened, sighed and turned around, leaning his head back against the bookcase."I hated him for a long time, but then I got to know him." there was a pause during which a small shudder wracked Edward's small body, "He... he was my father, afterall."When Ed asked if he could take some of the books home, Roy didn't try to argue with him. He was never very good at saying no to Edward Elric anyways. 


	8. Opportunity

**8.** Edward Elric was never one to give up easily. Roy felt nearly useless next to him- his sharp, golden eyes raced across the page, devourig two, sometimes three, books an hour. Roy sometimes would lower the report he was reading over and just stare at the boy. Sometimes, he would catch a placid moment where Ed was still and quiet, legs drawn up to his chest, hand in his hair a sense of calm serenity about him. Roy had never seen Edward like this before- it was a somewhat sombering experience.But even the most patient and determined of induviduals has their limits. Althought Ed was determined, he could hardly be called patient by any stretch of the imagination. His limit seemed to be a week of fruitless searching (even more fruitless in Roy's case since he had no background in the art of soul transmutation. His specialty was elements and chemicals- affixing spirits and memories to an object was a tad to exstenstential for him). Ed's moods grew darker as the days passed and Roy had grown used to coming home and seeing yellow eyes glare at him, cat like, from the living room as he passed through the hallway. Usually he left well enough alone, but tonight he carefully undid his coat and softly slipped into the living room, taking a seat on the couch opposite of Ed.The blonde didn't look up from his book on chemical transmutation until he heard the twin clinks of bottle and glass hit the table between them. He watched Roy through unnervingly alert eyes as the man slowly poured himself a shot of vodka. His eyes followed the glass and took in the arch of Roy's neck as he knocked back the shot. Roy sighed, savouring the warm burn of liquor, and poured himself another, aware that Edward's gaze was still burning into the top of his head. The next time the glass hit the table, Ed grabbed for it and messily poured himself a drink that ended up half spilt across the table."Edward-""What?" Ed growled, lifting the glass to his face. Roy could almost hear him snarling- _'C'mon Colonel. I dare you to tell me no.'_ Instead the boy narrowed his eyes and said, "I've been old enough to drink for some time now." and knocked the shot back in one jerky movement.Roy had to restrain his laughter when the young man heaved forwards, coughing and sputtering in disgusted shock. He slammed the glass down on the table hard."That's... shit. Why didn't you warn me?"Roy smirked and knitted his fingers together, "Well, I assumed that you knew what you were doing.""Fuck... we couldn't have afforded alcohol that potent if I had sold my automail. Fucking inflation." Ed swayed a bit, but he poured himself another glass anyways. This one went down easier than the first, but not nearly as easy as the next one did.If it had been anyone else, Roy probably would have stopped them after the fourth shot. However, he found himself strangely mesmerized by the methodical way Edward was throwing back the shots and strangely interested in the way the young man's eyelids were beginning to droop against his will as red rose in his cheeks. After nine and a half shot (far more than any inexperience drinker should have even _considering_ drinking), Ed stood up. And fell back down. He closed his eyes, massaged his temples and muttered something under his breath before standing again. This time he managed to walk (though it was more like extravagent falling) towards Roy's couch and all of a sudden Roy found himself with Edward Elric collapsed in his lap, hands fisting in his uniform.Confused (and a little curious), Roy watched Edward watch him through half lidded eyes. He felt Ed tangle a flesh hand in his hair and he saw the look of raw intent on the blond's face, but he was somehow still surprised when when Edward leaned forwards and pressed their lips. It was clumsy, it was chaste, but it was _Edward_ and Roy found himself momentarily speechless when the boy pulled away. He took in slow, even breaths and reminded himself, several times, that Edward was very, very _drunk_."Edward." he asked slowly after a moment, "What are you doing?""Trying to seduce you." Edward answered easily, as if it were the _obvious_ answer. His voice slurred thick with alcohol, breath so strong with vodka that it made Roy dizzy, "It would go a lot smoother if you'd do something. I've never exactly done this before." his tone was annoyed and Roy wondered at the _audacity_ of the boy as Ed leaned in for another kiss.Roy pushed him away, "Edward." he repeated firmly, "_What_ are you doing?"Ed groaned and slumped backwards, his automail leg digging painfully into Roy's thigh. His eyes stared at the far wall with a hazy, unfocused glaze as they attempted to avoid looking at Roy, "I had... these dreams." he made a fustrated noise and tipped like he was going to fall over. Roy reached out and caught his wrist. "Listen," Ed continued blearily, "When you don't think you're ever going to see your home again there's nothing wrong with just dreaming. I-" he inhaled deeply and _flowed_ forwards, flattening his body against Roy's out of pure fatigue rather than any sort of sexual advance. He spoke softly, ungaurded as his breath whispered hotly against Roy's neck, "This isn't my home anymore, y'know Colonel. Everything is different... it's..." a pause. Edward's body was so still that Roy wondered if he had fallen asleep. He was about to move Ed off of him when the boy's hand clenched at his collar, dragging him back down, "Dammnit, this is my only opportunity to get you out of my fucking system."Roy closed his eyes for a long, still moment and ignored the warmth of Edward's body. This had honestly been one of the last things he had expected when he accepted the young man into his house. In all honesty, he should have almost been _expecting_ it.

_'You know, Sir, it seems as if young Edward has quite the crush on you.' 'Mmm? What makes you say something like that, Leutenient?' 'Oh, nothing.' a knowing grin. 'Nothing?' '... well, Sir, what are you going to do about it?' 'What can I do? He's only fifteen years old.' And Hawkeye shot him a sidelong glance, 'Colonel, I meant are you going to say anything to him? Try to discourage him?' A shrug, 'He's just a child, Hawkeye. He'll grow out of it.'_

Roy made his decision. He scopped Edward into his arms and rose, momentarily staggered by Ed's surprising weight until he remembered the automail. It was embarassing, Roy supposed, for the young alchemist to be carried like a child, and if Ed were sober Roy had no doubt that he would be lying on the floor bleeding by now."What are you doing?""You're drunk, Edward. I'll sleep on the couch tonight. You need-""_Dammnit!_" Ed twisted violently and Roy lost his balance as the young man struggled free. Before Roy could regain his balance a fist connected sloppily with his chin and he fell back against the wall, only to be pinned there by strong hands, "I'm not a child anymore, Mustang. Seven years have passed for me too, but _everyone_ just treats me the same as before I left. I didn't just _disappear_ off the face of the fucking planet! I-" his voice rose and fell with every breath that heaved in his chest. Roy measured his next words carefully"Is that what this is about, Edward?" he asked softly, "Trying to prove to me that you're an adult? You don't need to-""Stop being a stupid _shit_, Colonel!" Ed hissed, the cold title slipping off his tongue like instinct. "This is about me knowing what the fuck I want! You're still _talking_ to me like I'm a child- well guess what? I've had seven long years to think this through. I _know_ what I want! I know _who_ I want. I'm not as confused as you think I am."Ed's color was high, his eyes were wild and his hair tussled as static energy twitched through his wiry body like a live wire. He was really something else, Edward Elric- an undefinable creature who _burned_ like a star even though it was obvious from the hollowness in his face that he was running on empty. The hunger in his eyes was almost overwhelming and Roy could almost _taste_ the ache. No woman had ever looked at him that way.Nevertheless, Roy relaxed his shoulders and spoke heavily, "Did you ever consider, Edward, that perhaps I wouldn't want you in the same way you want me?"His words hung in the air between them. Ed's eyes widened and his jaw fell open as several things clicked into place in his brain. His face darkened in embarassment and he snapped his mouth shut again, his lips broadening in a wickedly bitter grin as he let his hands slide down Roy's arms in defeat. His eyelashes hid his eyes in the dim hallway's light."I... I'm..." he shook his head and laughed brokenly, "I'm _really_ drunk." Forget this ever happened"He turned, bracing himself on the wall, and began to stumble back towards the living room. Roy only watched him for a moment before he moved to catch the young man's arm."Edward, wait."Ed's muscels tightened under Roy's hand though he made no move to stop the older man from running long fingers through his hair, pulling it loose. It cascaded down his back, thick and dark gold. It almost reminded Roy of... almost reminded him of _Riza_He cut the thought off before it could finish and yanked his hands away from Edward as if the boy were made of hot coals. "I'm sorry Edward." he murmered. He was certain that Edward was past the point of caring. 


	9. Fire Wounds

**9.** "You made so many enemies, which one was it that decided to put a hole in your face?"Roy had to rub the sleep out of his eyes blearily and blink a few times before he was awake enough to process the question. Ed was sprawled out across the couch with his hair down and one arm over his forehead. If he were a taller man, his legs would probably be dangling off the arm, but even at twenty-three years old Edward Elric was still short enough to be mistaken for a child. Roy stared at him evenly in the fading darkness- the sun was coming up and the young man was finally somewhere approaching sober. He'd rambled on for most of the night about homonculus and gates and a place called Germany that Roy had never heard of before and then fell silent. Roy thought he had fallen asleep and wondered why he couldn't do the same."Are you going to answer my question or what?"Roy sighed and leaned forwards on his knees, running his fingers across his eyepatch ruefully. He had hoped Edward wouldn't ask those sorts of questions. Talking about his encounter with Archer would invariably lead to questions about his fight with Pride and that was something he hadn't even spoken to Riza about."Mustang-""Archer." he said slowly, "It was Archer. He tried to extract his own brand of justice upon me- execution of a traitor."Edward stiffly pulled himself into a sitting position, bracing himself unsteadily as he managed an incredelous expression, "_That_ bastard? I thought he died in Liore.""He should of." Roy replied wearily, "But then again, that's the wonder of Automail." Ed shrunk into his seat a bit and shifted his metal limbs awkwardly, "They had to rebuild more than half his body. I never liked him, but I cannot deny that Frank Archer was a man of reason. The doctors seemed to overlook the fact that a good portion of his brain had been damaged when the scarred man made the Philosopher's stone. He was... unbalanced.""You know what?" Ed interrupted, holding up his hands. There was a pained expression in his shadowed eyes, "I don't want to know. I really, really don't."Roy shrugged and leaned back in his seat. Sunlight was inching into the room through the slits in his blinds- it was morning already."I... um... thought," Edward coughed, refusing to allow silence to fall between them, "Well, I _guessed_ that the eyepatch was from..." he trailed off and tried on an ironic grin. It dissolved quickly only to be replaced by a thoughtful frown, "Once in a while I wondered if you were even alive, Colonel. I've fought Homonculus and I know that they're next to impossible to kill and well..."Roy stood abruptly and cleared his throat, "Edward, it's nearly daybreak- I think that you should probably sleep. You're still young and-""Don't change the subject!" Ed snapped, suddenly agitated. He winced at the tone of his own voice, massaging one of his temples as he gestured towards the other couch, "Sit down.""I'm not going to discuss this with you, Edward." Roy said through gritted teeth, "And I don't want to argue with you. Just drop it.""Dammnit, Mustang, just sit down! I'm not asking you about this for no reason- this is _important_."When Edward said that something was important, he had a way of making it sound important. However, Roy knew from experience that the things Ed calssified as important were useful only to the induvidual. There were many things that could be said on the virtues of the Fullmetal Alchemist- he was corageous, he was intelligent and he was resourceful. Unfortunately, he was not selfless nor did he often give pause to think about the feelings and concerns of those around him. He was like a runaway train on full throttle and about as subtle as a sledgehammer."No." is all Roy said. It wasn't exactly a direct reply, but he was tired and slightly hung over and really didn't feel like dealing with _anything_ at six o clock in the morning. He turned to leave- sleep maybe, but more likely get dressed for work (which was in less than two hours), but Edward leapt to his feet and grabbed his wrist with his automail hand. Roy felt himself swung around and he slammed against the doorway, short of breath."Did you kill him?" Ed hissed, "That's all I want to know. Godammnit, all I ever get from you is this weird avoidance bullshit! Did you _kill_ that homonculus or did you just leave his body lying there?""Yes." Roy growled, patience ebbing away slowly like a low tide, "I _killed_ him, Edward.""Are you sure?" there was something dark and dangerous in Ed's eyes. It was like blood and murder and was entirely too old for his face. Roy felt something crack under that glare"I'm sure that I killed him." he removed Ed's hand from his arm forcibly and pushed the boy away from him, taking a deep breath. He knew that he sounded angry- there was a deadly calm working it's way into his voice and he could feel his entire body shuddering. On the outside he was sure that he looked rather like steaming water about to break into a boil- he could tell because the expression on Ed's face was the expression of a man about to tread a thin line. On the inside he was blank. He kept expecting the watershead to happen- Edward always had that unique ability to push people over the edge no matter how much they had mastered the art of teetering- but he just kept seeing the same scene play over again in his head like a movie reel._Fire, blood, smoke- a child's neck is as easy to break as bird bones. You barely have to apply any pressure at all- just press your fingers into to esophogas. All it takes is a little snap and a head lolls backwards at an awkward angle- dull eyes, clammy skin and an honestly surprised expression frozen on his face..._"I burnt his body into ash again and again and _again_ until there wasn't enough ash to make a man anymore. I ground that ash into the wood grain and kicked it into the fire until there wasn't any of him left at all, except in the memory of the soot in my clothes. And then I watched his house burn down around me. Is that dead enough for you, Edward?"Ed shut his eyes- they were puffy and dark from a night of drinking- and exhaled deeply, "I guess... no. It is. That's definitely dead enough."Roy slumped against the wall and stared at the ceiling tiredly. Not tiredly really, he was past tired by now, at the point where he didn't even regret sitting down to drink with Edward in the first place. It really was ridiculous the way the boy managed to yank him around like a dog on a collar, "I just wish I knew what exactly you wanted with me, Edward."He hadn't meant to say it aloud. Hadn't even registered that he had said it out loud until Ed replied, "What do I _want_ with you?"This was the beginning of a conversation that Roy didn't have any time for. He spun on his heel and headed straight for the kitchen. He needed coffee. He put the kettle on to boil and began fixing the grains methodically, trying to ignore the shadow of a boy standing in the doorway. Ed still hadn't answered by the time the kettle began bubbling, so Roy assumed that he had fallen asleep on his feet and began to fill his mug."I... want you to come with me.""Come with you?" there was nothing to be surprised about anymore- Edward was a walking, talking source of unbelieviable statements and actions, "Where am I supposed to go with you?""I need to fix Al's memories, _remember_?" and there the boy went, taking a condescending tone. It was so very ridiculous, "I need to go see my teacher in Dublith, but I'm stopping off in Rizenbul to visit Al first. I want you to come with me."He shot Edward a stern glare over his shoulder, "No Edward, I _can't_ do that." and kept pouring, unaware that his mug was overflowing.It wasn't a debateable issue. Edward tried anyways."I'm the walking dead, Mustang. I need somebody to help me get around unnoticed. I'd really rather not _walk_ all the way to Dublith and there's no way I'm getting a train ticket on my own."Roy noticed that the scalding water was dripping down the side of the counter in thin, vertical rivers. He put the kettle down and said, "Edward, I have a job. I can't just-""You have a title that doesn't really mean anything anymore." Ed retorted snidely, "I'm sure that no one would notice if you went missing for a week or two."_'And even if they did, they wouldn't care.'_ Roy added silently, taking a weary sip of his coffee. He grimaced when he discovered that it tasted like stale water, "The answer is still no." 


	10. Train

**10.** Three hours later they were on a train to Rizenbul. It was either that or wait another whole week and Roy wasn't sure he could stand living with Edward in his house for that long. Ed slept for the first two hours of the journey and Roy just stared out the window, willing himself awake just in case they missed their destination. The landscape was dull and repetitive, like the paper reels of background they used whenever they needed to film a chase scene in a theater picture. Roy wasn't used to taking the train during the day unless he was being shipped out to a war. That's how it always was- send the soilders in during the day, take them out in the middle of the night. Amestris had been at peace for nearly a decade, but there was still something unnverving about sitting in a train car (as empty as it happened to be) with the sunlight streaming through the windows. Something that made that old, familiar pit of dread settle heavily at the base of his stomach.Across from him, Edward stirred and yawned awake. He still stretched like a child. Roy wasn't sure what was so child-like about throwing your arms over your head and kicking your legs out in front of you, but he did know that adults stretched in less obvious ways. They rolled their heads across their shoulders and arched their backs casually. It was less refreshing, but part of being an adult was the sacrifice of comfort and satisfaction in favour of apperance and poise."Drinking makes you feel like shit." Edward concluded loudly, twisting in his seat to stretch his back before falling back into his seat, loose as a ragdoll."Well, not everyone chooses to drink twice their mass in one night, Edward." he almost let it rest at that, but the insult slid off his tongue on it's own, "Not that it takes much more than one rather _tall_ shot to put you under the table."Edward opened his mouth, but snapped it shut again as if deciding that he was too mature to take that particular bait. Instead he smirked and admitted, "Well, maybe I drank a little _too_ much, but I didn't realize that the alcohol in Amestris was so potent. In Germany everything was so expensive that they just watered down all the alcohol in the entire country- I could have drank ten times what I did last night and not even felt woozy."Edward Elric admitting that he had been foolish? Roy felt a little bit of irrational pride in the boy and couldn't help but smile back at his companion. However, something about the comment resonated in his mind and piqued his curiosity."Edward, where is Germany?"He had expected the boy to be hesitant, but he hadn't expected the stark-white, wide-eyed, cat with it's back arched _horror_ that Edward displayed upon being asked the question."What makes you ask that?" he coughed into his hand and his voice went high pitched at the end of the sentence."You've mentioned it several times already. I'm just curious as to where you've been all these years."The horror drained from his face replaced by a sort of sad repose and he rocked forwards in his seat, "Germany... is a country.""I'd gathered that.""It's..." Edward studied his hands and was so quiet that Roy wondered if he was hoping the question would just go away if he took too long to answer."How far away is it?" he tried again, "Is it on the other side of Xing? Above Drachma? Across the ocean?""No." Ed's fingers tightened around his knees, "Germany is much further away than Xing.""Across the ocean then?" Roy knew that he was grasping at straws, but he also knew that the only way he was going to get anything out of Edward at this point was by backing him into a corner. Edward _was_ like a dog in the respect that once you backed him into a corner he would fight back at you tooth and nail. It wasn't something to be proud of, but Roy found that Ed was easiest to control when he was in that corner."_Further_ than that." Ed murmered, "You probably can't even imagine how far away."Roy reached out and gently pushed Ed's face up with his index finger. He smiled wryly once the blonde met his eyes, "Try me."Ed stared at him for a long moment before pulling away and shaking his head vigorously, "There is no way I'm talking about this with you. No matter how I phrase it you're just going to think I'm crazy and say something like: _'Oh, Edward, that's ridiculous! You must have imagined it all! All that unrestricted alchemy use must have finally sent you over the edge!'_ So how about this: I was further away than Drachma, further away than Xing and further away than across the ocean and we just leave it at that."This was certainly a delicate situation. Edward wasn't like most people. Most people would be burning, practically _dying_ with the need to tell everyone and anyone what exactly happened to them no matter how insane others thought they were. Most people would refuse to tell the story only to make it seem all the more sensational when they finally told it. However, Edward was the sort to let sleeping dogs lie. Once he decided against telling you something, he was stubborn enough to stick by his decision- perhaps it was the mark of someone who had faced real trauma that he had no desire to talk about it. Whatever it was, Roy admired it in him. But, but- "Are you just going to avoid the subject everytime someone attempts to bring it up?""Yes."If that wasn't a typical Edward answer, Roy wasn't sure what was. He decided (not so) wisely to drop the whole issue and return to staring morosely out the window. Silence reigned for longer than Roy cared to count. A few handfuls of awkward minutes until Edward said, unprovoked and completely out of context, "Sometimes I think that it would be better if Al never regained his memories at all."Roy turned slowly to look at the boy- young man- slouched in his seat, brows furrowed and eyes watching the world from so deep inside his head that Roy wondered if the blonde had even meant to speak aloud at all.Roy decided not to pursue that particular line of conversation either. 


	11. Notebook

**11.** Pinako Rockbell gave him a dark look the moment he walked in the door. Roy was unable to gauge the look since as far as he knew, the woman had come to accept the notion of his occasional prescence in their lives. He concluded that the look had something to do with the fact that he was accompanied by her somewhat estranged surrogate grandson."I'd wondered where you went." she said to Ed, looking Roy up and done several times times, one eyebrow raised and her pipe hanging out of the corner of her mouth.Once upon a time Edward would have balked beneath those words; drawn his shoulders up in a sulky pose and maybe shot her a glare. Now, however, he simply shrugged and muttered, "I had some business to take care of in Central." before asking flippantly, "Where's Al?""Out in back. Somewhere." Pinako answered without taking her eyes off Roy and just like that Ed left him alone in a room with one of the last people in the entire world he ever wanted to be alone in a room with.They stood in silence for a few seconds until Roy realized that he was holding Edward's jacket- hadn't even noticed that the young man had flung the thing at him in the first place. He went to hang it on the coat rack when Pinako asked: "So, how have you been General?"Roy froze and felt his body tense as he answered: "Please, Ms. Rockbell, I'm off duty." _'Besides, the title is only a formality'_. He didn't say that part out loud, however.She stared at him apprasingly for a long, silent moment while he clenched the shoulders of Ed's jacket in both hands."Well," she said curtly, "The next train doesn't leave for two weeks. You might as well make yourself useful."

----------------

The next few days settled into what could nearly be called a comfortable routine. Roy had lived in the city his entire life. When he was a boy his parents used to tell him that it was a shame, really, because children should be raised in the country. They made it implicity clear that the city was a place for adults. Children, they lamented, should be allowed to run free among the trees and the grass and the wind. City children spend far too much time inside reading about things they shouldn't know and playing with things that aren't real. They have far too much time to draw into themselves, build a wall around their emotions and become far too comfortable inside of it.City children are born adults.Needless to say, concepts such as chopping firewood, fixing broken porch doors and even peeling vegetables for a strew were completely foreign concepts to Roy Mustang. Pinako Rockbell had lived in both the country and the city and had decided that she rather liked the country better. She knew how city people worked and that the best and quickest way to make them uncomfortable was to strip them of their inborn city pride and set them about doing forced, manual labour.Roy was no stranger to this sort of work having been in the military for most of his life (when he was nineteen years old a commanding officer had demanded he dig a pit five feet deep and one foot wide in less than an hour. Although this had seemed a daunting task at the time, he now snickered when he realized that this was approximately the size of Edward Elric), but Pinako seemed determined to work him harder that he had ever been worked before. Roy began to wonder if he were finally paying penance for the murder of her children through, of all things, excessive housework. She seemed to require an entire year's worth of firewood (either that or she had been assigned to provide for the entire town of Rizenbul that winter), and she needed it _immediately_. Roy often wondered where Edward disappeared to during most of the day and why he wasn't attempting to come to his rescue. Then he realized that the young man would probably garner an unhealthy amount of enjoyment from the sight of his former commanding officer in a plain white shirt, wilting under the sun as he bent under the harsh commands of his "Auntie Pinako" to bother intervening on Roy's behalf.Mrs. Rockbell watched him like a hawk, sometimes grinning; sometimes scowling, but _always_ unreadable. Whenever he thought it was safe to take a break and wipe the sweat from his brow, Pinako would call from the window: "I don't hear chopping, Mr. Mustang! When the Brigandier General Armstrong was last here, he chopped ten times that by lunchtime!"And there was the _other_ thing- she was absolutely _enamoured_ with Alex Louis Armstrong. It was bad enough that Roy almost wished that he could senf a letter to his younger self warning him to never allow Armstrong to go within a hundred mile radius of Rizenbul under any curcumstances whatsoever. He tried several times to explain to Pinako that he most certainly _not_ the same kind of soldier as Armstrong, and in fact, Armstrong was really one of kind in the Amestris military. Roy was rusty from nearly a decade of desk work not to mention sustaining more than one life-threatening injury in his youth. He thought (once) of casually mentioning that he once nearly had an imploded lung via a sword thrust viciously in his chest. He also considered mentioning that the reason he wore an eyepatch had a lot to do with a bullet wound delivered to the left side of his face. However, in the end he decided that it was in poor taste and instead he did as Pinako asked and cleaned out the storm gutters while she stood on the ground and said: "It's been a while since we've had a man around here to help out with the yard work.""That's not true, Auntie," Al replied, a bit scoldingly, "I could have done it! And so could have Winry for that matter!" Pinako just tapped the end of her pipe and went inside.Al really was a sweet kid. He even came over to check on Roy when he tumbled backwards off the ladder and laid prone in the grass mumbling something to himself about military tours."Are you okay Mr. Mustang?""That woman," Roy answered listlessly as he stared at the sky, "Means to kill me. And she means to do it with a straight face.""Don't take it too personally," Al said calmly. Roy lifted his head and sheilded his eye from the sun to look curiously at the younger Elric brother. Al shook his head lightly and a smile crinkled warmly under his eyes. That was strange- Edward only ever smiled on his lips, "It's just Auntie's way of saying that you're welcome here."Roy dropped his head back into the grass and closed his eyes with a sigh, "Really? Is that what it is? I never would have guessed?"Speaking with Alphonse Elric was a disorienting experience to say the least. Roy had never gotten to know Al as well as he knew Edward- he was mild mannered, he was polite and respectful and unnervingly reserved for a fourteen year old boy. Roy had always found Edward easier to relate to. Edward was prideful, voliatile and bursting at the seams with more intelligence and ambition and potential than he knew what to do with. He always knew where he stood with Edward, or at the very least the difference between where he _wanted_ to stand with the boy and where he actually _did_ stand. Although he hated it bitterly, Ed was well suited to the military in some ways. As irrational, emotional and downright ridiculous as he could be, in the end Edward still knew how to be ruthless.Alphone was the sort of person you would never find in the military. So content to stand back and play second fiddle to his brilliant brother. Roy supposed that he was somewhat like Hughes in that respect (not that Roy had ever understood _him_ either). Al without his memories should have been an entirely different creature. _Should have_ been being the key concept. He was a little less wise, a little more fustrated. Oddly enough, a little more _adult_. This was the Alphonse Elric who would have existed had he never lost his body to the Gods of Equivialent Trade- an Alphonse Elric who technically should have _never_ existed. He was a walking, talking violation of the rules that govern an alchemists life and it never failed to unnerv Roy how similar his voice and expression was to the empty suit of armour he met cowering outside an operating room in Rizenbul so many years ago.Sometimes he caught Edward shooting his brother that strange, thoughtful and almost _mournful_ look. Roy recognized that look from the past and had always gotten the impression that Ed was looking at his brother and seeing the human child within. Now Roy wondered if all Ed could see when he looked at Alphonse was an emotionless suit of armour.He opened his eyes again to see Al still grinning down at him with that warm smile, mingled with a stare that was something akin to a student studying for a term paper. Al always looked at people he knew from his former life like that. Roy could tell that it bothered him how easily the banter came between himself and Ed- snarky, quasi-hostile, tellingly intimate pratter that Al _knew_ should have been familiar but wasn't. He knew that the boy was bothered by these things, but he never spoke a word about it to anyone. Unfortunately, Al's body language was about as opaque as handblown glass."Can I help you, Alphonse?"Alphonse drew back quickly, blinking in embarassment, "Ah- I'm sorry." he rocked back in the grass on his heels and gestured towards the house, "My brother wanted to talk to you. He's in the kitchen."Roy propped himself up on his elbows and stared at the house, debating whether he should make the elder Elric brother wait. He could picture Ed pacing in the kitchen, glowering and grumbling about unreliable old farts who can't even follow simple instructions and figured it was even payoff for the workload Edward's honorary grandmother had piled on him."Why didn't he just come get me himself?"Al 'hmphed' a little half laugh under his breath and replied, "My brother said that you were getting pasty and out of shape. He told me that you needed to get some exercise before your joints seized up and the rest of your hair turned gray."Roy immediately ran a hand through his hair as he felt his heart stop for a few beats.The rest of his hair? The _rest_ of his hair? Since when was _any_ of his hair gray in the first place?He was on his feet, stalking towards the house before Al could finish giggling. Roy could almost hear Edward smirking tirumphantly.

----------------

It wasn't a particularily _attractive_ notebook- all bent spined, dog-earred with tattered pages sticking out at all angles. Roy would even go far as to say that it was the rattiest block of paper and leather he had ever seen in his life because, in that condition there was certainly no way he was going to call it a _notebook_.Ed slid the tome across the table and Roy caught it, lifting it gingerly, "What exactly is this, Edward?""It's my old alchemical journal." Ed answered frankly, resting his chin in his palm and fixing Roy with an uncomfortably intense stare. Roy glanced at him briefly before carefully letting the... "notebook" fall open in his hands._March 15th, 1912: today Al and i visited Crestheim and really i have never seen any place so lifeless as this stupid town. i nearly went INSANE with boredum since theres absolutly nothing to do in this shit hole. they always say that Rizenbul is boring as hell but at least we have forests and rives and feilds and valleys and stuff. i bet that bastrd back in east city is having the time of his life laghing his ass off at me. i dont know where he gets the nerve to send me and Al alllllll the way out here on sum stupid wild goose chase when...... well, i guess that the people here sorta had a problem. and I sorta fixed it, which i suppose counts as official military business. Plus the local inn had what was possibly some of the best stuw i've had in years. it's still not as good as mom's_ (and this part was crossed out heavily)_ the train ride wasn't so bad this time either. Al and i usually get the entire cabin to ourselves since most people are uncomfrotable sitting next to us so we get to enjoy the silence and wach the scenery..._"And before you say anything, the grammatical mistakes were... _mostly_ intentional.""Mostly?" Roy smirked and Ed just rolled his eyes."Hey- they don't teach stuff like reading and writing here. Al and I learned how to read from studying the Old Man's alchemy books. And while that's all well and good for teaching you about chemicals and compounds, it doesn't teach you how to spell useless words like _'boredom'_.""It's spelt with an 'o', not a 'u'. In case you were wondering."Ed groaned and rapped his fingers on the table impatiently, "Just shut up and read.""I did." Roy snapped the book shut and Ed nodded."So?""So, what?""What do you think?""Travel logs. Interesting choice, Edward. Even most other Alchemists would probably have disregarded this as typical military protocol."Ed furrowed his brow, "That's not what I meant. Can you _understand_ it?"Roy opened again to the page he had been reading and studied it a moment longer. When he was finished he handed to book to Edward and began, "You were on a relatively unimportant mission in which you had to apprehend a relatively untalented rogue alchemist who was abusing his power in a small, costal town. You unintentionally used a new technique to beat him at his own game and later tried to map out an array based on it. You used your brother's name in conjunction with array mapping mostly, I suppose, because he's better at it than you.""Hey," Ed interrupted, "What makes you think-""He'd _have_ to be. You wouldn't. Anyways, the technique involved chemical transmutation, mostly focusing on the oxygen found naturally in the air. You compressed it and combined it with highly charged hydrogen atoms, using the low air pressure that day to your advantage. The result was something like lightning springing from mid-air. Unfortunately, the array you crafted didn't work."He threaded his fingers beneath his chin and smiled charmingly, "Did I miss anything, Edward?"On his part, Edward look pale and rather insulted. He flipped the book shut and muttered, "I really hate you sometimes." Roy only laughed, "Is my code _really_ that simple to decipher?" he demanded, glaring at Roy with flashing eyes.Roy stopped laughing and narrowed his eye slightly, "Not necessarily. However, remember that I do know you fairly well. Besides- you chose me to represent abstract chemical transmutation for a reason, remember? The subject of that particular entry just so happened to be my specialty."Ed pursed his lips and began thumbing through the journal, a determined crook in his eyebrow, "So I suppose that by law of equivialent trade, if I ever happened upon _your_ journal I'd be automatically privy to all the great, alchemical secrets of Roy Mustang?""Mmm, I wouldn't be so sure."Ed shot him a wavering look, "Are you trying to tell me that after all those years that you know _me_ well enough to decode my journal at a glance, but not vice versa.""Well," Roy began delicately, wincing at the loud creak in the chair as he eased back, "The subject of my journals are suitiably oblique. In your case, I bleive that it may be a somewhat _foreign_ topic."Ed stopped his thumbing and looked up at Roy with what could only be described as absolute disgust, "You don't mean...""Yes.""You write your alchemical _journals_ on the subject of _women_?" a deep shudder ran up Edward's spine and his shoulders shook."What better subject is there?"Ed sighed sadly and went back to his page-flipping. Roy watched him quietly and after a moment, Ed added (without looking up): "You really like women, don't you?"Roy responded, "Yes, I do." without even stopping to consider why Edward would be asking such an aimless question in the first place. It was the second sigh that jogged his memory and he wondered how he possibly could have _forgotten_ what exactly had transpired the night before they left Central."Edward-" he was glad when the blonde shoved the journal at him since he had absolutely no idea what he had meant to say."Try to decode _that_." Ed practically had his nose in the air he was looking so smug with himself. He folded his arms across his chest and waited. Roy lifted the notebook from the table and began reading again._August 3rd 1911: this place is pretty nice. not much is happening, but i think that Al & i really needed a break. i went for a long walk alone this morning and it gave me time to think some things over. even when you make mistakes it's always possible to undo them, right? well, it's what i figure at least. most people will just sit there on their asses waiting for some sort of stupid "God" to answr they're prairs. i can't understand relying in someone who's existence is still in debate to solve all your problems for you. if you really want things to change, you have to make them change using your own power. one truth in this world is that you can only rely on your own power, not the power of some dumb guy sitting up in the clouds who your not even sure is real anyways.i saw a... crap, what was it called. one of those birds that Winry relly used to like when we were kids. it brought back memories and it made me consider for once getting a camera to take pictures and stuff for auntie and winry. I think they'd like to see all the cool places al and i get to visit now that we're n the military. well, maybe Auntie no so much since she travelled when she was young, but i know Winry would DEFINITLY want to see it and Auntie would be happy just knowing that we're safe.well, i could always buy a camera and write letters, but i know that i'll never send them. I haven't talked to them since before we... did that thing that wuld probably have made Auntie mad. with our house. it was necessary but i'm not quite sure i want them trying to send me mail all the time since it would just end up going through that bastards inbox. i never send the letters Al gives to me either. he's probably wondering why they don't write back, but i'd rather not tell him just yet that i've been chucking the stupid things. we agreed when we left home that we were on our own anyways. that's how it is- two brothers vs the world.after I got back we went out to eat. i really do miss mom's stew, but they served decent steak at the inn. it's still weird that Al can't eat. I always order him a meal accidently and i can tell that it makes him feel like crying, but he never says anything about it.if i could remember the name of the place i would highly recomend it. but i can't so i won't._Roy's vision was blurring as he dragged his fingers across the messy words. It was beginning to get dark and he was glad that the entry was over. He was surprised that Edward would have written anything so deeply... _personal_ in his alchemical journal. Then he realized just how ingeniuous the boy really was- the more personal the entry sounded, the more personal it _felt_, the less the reader is going to search for the deeper meaning behind the words."What's it mean?" Edward asked impatiently.Roy shrugged and shook his head helplessly, "I'm at a loss here, Edward." he had been such a bitter child. Roy tried to imagine an Edward Elric who _hadn't_ attempted to revive his mother. An Edward Elric with four flesh limbs, a smile that reached to his eyes and a lot less swaggering hubris.He couldn't do it.Ed's metal jabbed the page and the blonde caught Roy's blurry gaze with a very serious stare, "_That_," and he tapped his finger on the page for emphasis, "Is a perfect formula for soul transmutation. And I am going to teach it to you."Roy raised an eyebrow and Ed just broke into a slightly wicked grin.Soul transmutation? At this point, Roy was just about ready for anything. 


End file.
